


Heartlines on Your Hand

by thelightwitch



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 03:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19737187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelightwitch/pseuds/thelightwitch
Summary: Jonathan reached up to cup her face, directing her gaze to meet his own. “You know I think you’re brilliant, right?”Nancy softened. Leaning down, she deposited a heartfelt kiss on his cheek, smearing dark red lipstick.“I do,” she murmured. Then she wound her arms around his neck and pressed her chest against him, making Jonathan’s brain short-circuit. “Now shut up and kiss me.”--Three missing moments between Nancy and Jonathan, set during Season 3





	Heartlines on Your Hand

**Author's Note:**

> the chapter headings in the text refer to the episode that each moment belongs to (1, 6, and 8)

**Chapter One:**

Nancy was still fuming when she tumbled through Jonathan’s window at 11pm that night.

“I still can’t believe those assholes!” she snapped, one leg still out the window as she tossed her bag onto the floor. “I don’t think they’d know good reporting if it walked up to them on the street and hit them in the face!”

“They’re idiots,” Jonathan agreed uncreatively, knowing that his participation in this conversation was a formality at best. It was a continuation of the conversation they’d been having when he dropped her off at her parents’ house after work, which was a continuation of the same conversation they’d been having every night since they started at the Post – and Nancy didn’t need much help from him in order to have it.

While Nancy straightened her skirt and continued to rant about Tom and Bruce and the rest of the middle-aged creeps who staffed the Post, Jonathan put aside his book and went to close the window.

The first time she’d shown up like this, a few weeks after they’d started dating, he had joked that wasn’t the boyfriend supposed to be the one climbing through the girlfriend’s window at night? Nancy had pointed out that their relationship had never really followed traditional gender roles, so why should they start now? Jonathan knew that should have bothered him – it certainly would have bothered other men – but when he had the smartest, bravest, most beautiful girl he’d ever known in his bed every night, it was hard to care who held the monster-hunting gun, much less who climbed through whose window.

Jonathan sat on the edge of the bed and watched her pace, unable to stop the smile that tugged at his lips as she began to methodically strip off her work clothes without missing a beat of her rant.

“I mean first Bruce is all ‘If she can’t make a decent cup of coffee then what did we hire her for? I know it wasn’t her flat ass!’” she recounted, tugging off her earrings and tossing them unceremoniously onto the dresser. “And then Andy goes ‘Hey now, that’s no way to talk about an intern. I think she’s got a great ass!’”

Even hearing them recounted for the fifth time since lunch, the comments still made Jonathan bristle. Sometimes he was glad he was sequestered in the Dark Room all day – if he was around to hear those guys talk about Nancy like that he’d probably do something stupid like try and deck them, and then he and Nancy would both get fired. And he really needed this job.

“That’s fucked up, Nance,” he said for what felt like the hundredth time, as Nancy kicked off her heels and wriggled out of her stockings. For all of his justifications, he still felt like a shitty boyfriend for not being able to do more than repeat the same hollow words of comfort. Still, even if he did deck one of those guys, he doubted Nancy would thank him for it. She could take care of herself – he knew that better than anyone.

“It’s beyond fucked up,” she said forcefully, continuing to pace as she undid the buttons of her blouse with quick, angry fingers. “And the worst part is that I keep expecting Tom to intervene, you know? Like he’s got a daughter my age for chrissake! And he never stoops to their level of assholery” – the blouse landed on the floor and Jonathan’s eyes dropped to her lacey black bra as he wondered vaguely if it was bad to objectify your girlfriend while she was complaining about being objectified – “but it’s like he pretends not to hear it, which is almost worse?”

She stopped her pacing to undo the zipper of her skirt and push both skirt and slip to the floor in one go, leaving them in a heap as she crossed to the bed and climbed onto Jonathan’s lap.

“I’m so sorry you have to put up with that,” Jonathan mumbled, trying to concentrate on the conversation even as his hands skimmed up the smooth skin of Nancy’s bare thighs.

“It’s not your fault,” Nancy shrugged, businesslike as she reached for the hem of Jonathan’s t-shirt and began to tug it upward.

“I know,” Jonathan replied. Reluctantly, he stopped his exploration of her bare skin to raise his arms so Nancy could pull the shirt all the way off. “But I wish there was something I could do to get them off your back, and make them see how brilliant you are.” Newly divested of his shirt, he reached up to cup her face, directing her gaze to meet his own. “You know I think you’re brilliant, right?”

Nancy softened. Leaning down, she deposited a heartfelt kiss on his cheek, smearing dark red lipstick.

“I do,” she murmured. Then she wound her arms around his neck and pressed her chest against him, making Jonathan’s brain short-circuit. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

“You’re the one who can’t shut up!” Jonathan protested on a laugh, his fingers already finding the clasp of her bra.

"You’re right,” Nancy giggled. Wide eyes fixed on his, she bit her lip. “So why don’t you make me?”

Jonathan did not have to be told twice.

**Chapter Six:**

Nancy pulled the station wagon to a stop in front of the Byers’ darkened house. It was their last stop, after dropping off El, Lucas, and Max at their respective homes with a plan to meet back up in the morning. Will clambered out of the backseat and slipped inside, with Jonathan not far behind. Nancy watched him through the windshield as he stopped on the doorstep to give a halfhearted wave, and felt something tighten in her chest, a desperate need.

She turned to Mike. “I’ll be right back.”

She unbuckled her seatbelt quickly, and stepped out of the car, calling, “Hey Jonathan, wait up!”

Jonathan paused on the porch, watching as Nancy marched determinedly toward him and pulled his face down to hers. For a moment, Jonathan remained frozen. Then his arms came up to circle her waist, dragging her closer, as his lips parted against hers. The kiss was a little messy, and he tasted like salt and blood and she probably did too, but they were _alive_.

After a long moment, Nancy pulled back and buried her face in Jonathan’s shoulder, squeezing him tightly.

“Thank you for coming when I called,” she murmured against his skin. She felt Jonathan’s arms tighten around her.

“Always.”

Nancy looked up at him, skimming her thumb gently over the cuts on his cheek, pushing an unruly lock of hair off of his forehead so she could see into his dark eyes.

“I love you.”

It was hardly the first time she’d said it, but she was starting to think she didn’t say it enough. Not when either of them could die at any moment.

A lop-sided smile bloomed on Jonathan’s face, making her heart clench.

“I love you, too,” he mumbled.

Nancy leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him again.

“God, get a room!” Mike hollered from the car.

They broke apart, laughing softly, and Jonathan pressed his forehead to hers.

“I’ll see you in the morning?”

“In the morning,” Nancy confirmed. She let go of him reluctantly, stepping back. “’Night, Jonathan.”

“’Night, Nancy.”

**Chapter Eight:**

"So my mom sold the house today,” Jonathan murmured, staring up at the starry sky above Hawkins. They were laying side by side on an old blanket, spread out beneath the metal arms of Dustin’s makeshift radio tower on the hill high above the town. It was the first either of them had spoken in minutes.

Nancy pushed herself up from where her head had been resting on Jonathan’s shoulder to stare down at him. Dark hair, wild from Jonathan’s roaming hands, fell in her eyes. “Really?”

“Uhuh,” Jonathan replied. He sat up next to her so he could get a better look at her face, but her expression was unreadable. She stared at her hands, twisting them in her lap.

“So this is really happening,” she said finally.

Jonathan just hummed in confirmation and reached over to take her hand, lacing their fingers together and hoping that the contact would calm his own rising anxiety as much as hers.

"What do they even have in Maine anyway?” Nancy asked, trying not to pout and failing adorably.

“I don’t know, lobsters?” Jonathan replied, forcing a light-hearted tone “Moose?”

When Nancy didn’t smile, he picked up their joined hands and pressed his lips to her knuckles. “Telephones for me to rack up long distance charges calling you every night?”

Nancy cracked a small smile, and some of the tension in Jonathan’s chest eased.

“You better,” she replied, bumping his shoulder affectionately with hers. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t really have any other friends these days.”

“At least you don’t have to start over at a new school your senior year,” Jonathan grumbled. It was low on the list of reasons he was reluctant to leave Hawkins – a list that consisted mostly of Nancy’s eyes and Nancy’s hair and the way Nancy sighed his name when he kissed her neck – but it wasn’t something he was particularly excited about.

“Maybe you’ll become massively popular,” Nancy joked, looking up at him with a brave smile. “Maine sounds like the kind of place where they appreciate smart, artistic people. You’ll be the most popular guy in school and I’ll be the weird loner.”

“Yeah, right,” Jonathan laughed, shaking his head. “Besides, with me gone you’ll probably have plenty of people willing to be your friend again.”

“I don’t want those people,” Nancy replied emphatically. When she looked up at him, her large, gray eyes were wide and filled with tears. “I don’t want anything to do with them. I want _you_.”

Her voice broke a little over the last syllable, and Jonathan reached up to cup her face with his free hand, his calloused thumb swiping gently at the tear that had begun to roll down her cheek.

“You have me,” he murmured. He pressed his forehead against hers, squeezing his eyes shut against the blur of his own tears. “For as long as you want me.”

“Forever,” Nancy whispered fiercely. As the word left her lips, she knew it sounded like a dumb teenager thing to say – but she meant it. She couldn’t imagine her life without Jonathan. He was more than just her boyfriend or her best friend; he was her partner, in every way. They’d faced down death together, more than once, and as of yet no monster that they’d encountered had been strong enough to tear them apart.

Jonathan smiled softly and tipped her chin up, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss.

“Forever, then,” he echoed.


End file.
